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Anonymous Posted 20 years ago

Alive

Alive

Black is in the air

Words of beauty and fair

They sadly say

Talking about yesterday

In such a sorrow!

Why not talking about tomorrow?!

Why are eyes so bright?

Joyfully shinning through night

Or tears are flowing inside,

Without falling…

They park to side?!

Leaves seem very tough

Don’t know from where they come

Fallen from above?

Or wind raised them up?

Who knows why it’s candles

Instead of a pulp!!

Music is soft in background

And a poem blows with a sweet sound

Is it true someone is reading?

Or memory is just repeating

A scene of life, laughing

With some friends, maybe five,

Why now in sadness they dive?!

White in white

White is all I see

Loose not tight

What could it be?

Don’t know how

I’m with an angel now?

In heaven, torture we sell!

Oh, I realized

I fell.

But why is it said

I’m now dead?!!
  

Top answer

Your poem is the slave of rhyme, creating meaningless or irrelevant phrases. Destroy it and try your idea again. Concentrate on what you want to say and be sure that the words reflect that.

  • Your poem is the slave of rhyme, creating meaningless or irrelevant phrases.
  • Destroy it and try your idea again.
  • Concentrate on what you want to say and be sure that the words reflect that.
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1 Answers
0
Your poem is the slave of rhyme, creating meaningless or irrelevant phrases. Destroy it and try your idea again. Concentrate on what you want to say and be sure that the words reflect that.

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